Gar tried to stand, but his head swam and his vision grew dim and he lay back down quickly, worried that he was going to pass out.

“You can’t push yourself like that,” a voice said from the doorway. Gar turned his head to look. It was Char, the younger of the two. He liked to remind Gar of that, and he smiled. “You’re getting old,” he said.

“I’ll always be able to kick your ass, no matter my age,” Gar said in their guttural language, smiling but then wiping it quickly from his face. He couldn’t joke, not at a time like the one he found himself in. Sarah. She was in danger, and none of his people seemed to be taking it seriously.

“You won’t be getting out of that bed for at least a week,” Char said. “Even you.”

“I have to save her,” Gar said. “They took her. He took her. I know he did. The one she calls Henry. He is behind this, I can feel it. They took her, and I have to save her.”

Char nodded, much to Gar’s surprise. “I know,” he said, and then he stepped back into the hall for a moment and returned, pushing a hovering chair before him. “That’s why I’m getting you out of here. You can heal in space.”

“You’re getting me out of here?” Gar asked a bit stupidly. Had he heard right or was the many doses of medication coursing through his broken and battered body messing with him? Just last night he thought he had seen a bright orange Helephant riding a rocket bike around his room and singing songs from his childhood.

“They want to save her. They do. Her and Fib both, but you know how long it takes our military to do anything. They’re having meeting after meeting. Meanwhile, they could be hurting them.”

“So, we are going,” Gar said, allowing himself a smile then, as Char nodded.

Char pushed the floating chair over to the bed and helped Gar into it, leaving him connected to the wires and machinery by the bed until he was settled. As soon as they took those things off the hospital staff would be alerted.

Gar wrapped his powerful hand around the cords, all in one go, and looked to Char. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” the younger Zaytarian said, nodding his head. Gar pulled the wires, and then Char was pushing the chair, heading for the door.

In the halls they turned this way and that way, Char having walked them for half an hour before arriving at Gar’s room, learning the quickest possible path out of the building with the least chance of running into a nurse or doctor, or anyone else.

“Hey!” a voice called out to them as they neared the exit, but Char didn’t slow the chair, and neither of the aliens turned. The door slid upward as they approached, and then Gar was shielding his eyes against the bright sun, and Char was turning to the left.

With a roar of its engine, a six-wheeled vehicle screeched to a stop in front of them, and a door on the side slid open.

“Come on!” a female Zaytarian said, her skin blueish-green, her hair as white as snow. She came out of the open side door and helped guide the floating chair into the spacious back, climbing back in after Gar as Char opened another door further up so he could sit beside the driver, who was a Zaytarian male with pale red skin and yellow eyes.

“I’m Yelia,” the female said to Gar as the tires screamed against the pavement once more and then caught, the vehicle shooting forward. “Fib is my sister.”

“We will save her,” Gar said, nodding his head. “Thank you for this.”

Yelia didn’t say more, she just nodded solemnly.

Char turned in the seat ahead to look at Gar. “This is Bo,” he said, slapping the pale-red-skinned driver. He looked powerful, but he had let himself go, his gut almost touched the steering wheel. He drove away from the hospital and entered into the city beyond. “Ex-military, does some flying still. He’s going to get us up there.”

“That is what I am good at!” Bo said with a smile upon his face. “You won’t find a better driver.”

And with that, he hiccupped.

“Is he drunk?” Gar asked.

Char laughed. “He usually is,” the younger male said. “You get used to it. Really, there’s not a better flyer in the galaxy.”

“If you say so,” Gar said, clearly unconvinced.

“I got a nice little ship for us,” Bo said over his shoulder as he sped through the streets, going fast to stay ahead of any pursuers from the hospital. It’s not as though Gar was a prisoner. “I work out of a small airfield up North. Attracts little attention from anyone. We can figure everything out there before we go.”

“Nothing to figure out,” Gar said as he busied himself with pulling a needle from the skin of his arm. It had been feeding him with medicine, the tube being left behind in the hospital room when he had pulled everything out, but the needle was stubborn, and Gar had to try at it, gritting his teeth until it finally popped free. “We get a ship, we go up, we find them, and bring them home.”

“We have no idea where they could be,” Char reminded him. “It’s going to be a little more than that.”

Gar nodded and said no more. He had to play this smart. Sarah’s life depended on it.

They left the city behind before long and drove along a lonely road that sliced through woods where the trees leaves were blue and yellow. Another hour or so and they were pulling off the main road and onto a small dirt path with ruts the tires of the van-like vehicle fit snugly into.

The airfield was small. Three long buildings at one end and a paved square to launch from. There was even an old-fashioned length of runway, though Gar figured nothing had been flown that needed speed to take off or space to de-accelerate when landing for decades.

They parked next to one of the buildings, the smallest of the three, and Char placed a guiding hand on the hover chair as Yelia pushed Gar out of the vehicle from behind.

“Come on in,” Bo said, opening a door in the side of the building. Inside, was a hanger, as they had all guessed, through it was mostly empty. There was space for a number of ships, but only one sat inside, parked in the middle, a squat and ugly thing with multi-colored panels about the body, no doubt hasty repairs. Bo waved them on and they followed, Yelia still pushing Gar. Near the back of the building was another door, this one leading into a small office with a desk and a chair, and another door which opened to small living quarters. “Bathroom there,” Bo said, pointing to yet another door.

The living quarters were sparse, with a bed along one wall, a couch along another, and a table in the middle of the room. It suited Gar, he didn't plan on staying long.

“Well,” he said, looking around the room, “let’s get to work.”